


Vertigo

by Crimson1



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Barry is a thief, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Len is a science geek, M/M, Virgin Len, coldflashweeks2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 05:42:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14325837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crimson1/pseuds/Crimson1
Summary: Len didn’t know how he got into these messes with Barry.Only of course he did. He was the one who chose to go out into the field every time because he didn’t trust Barry to play hero without delving back into his villainous ways. He was the one who’d blackmailed a thief into being a hero in the first place.





	Vertigo

**Author's Note:**

> Happy ColdFlash week - spring edition. Well maybe not where I am because it SNOWING, urg. 
> 
> This is my role reversal contribution, an idea I've had floating around my tumblr for some time. If you like it, I may add more in the future.

Len didn’t know how he got into these messes with Barry.

Only of course he did. He was the one who chose to go out into the field every time because he didn’t trust Barry to play hero without delving back into his villainous ways. He was the one who’d blackmailed a thief into being a hero in the first place.

But Central City needed at least one meta human who wasn’t running amok, destroying property and killing people. All the good metas must be in hiding, because after months of watching the CCPD try and fail to deal with bad guys with superpowers, the only meta around who didn’t seem to enjoy slaughtering innocents was The Flash—and he was a notorious thief.

Len wasn’t a police officer. He was hardly qualified to hunt down meta humans. He was an engineer for Trickster Technologies. Mr. Jesse liked Len enough that he’d given him his own floor to work on patents for the company. Len preferred working alone anyway. All Jesse cared about was that he produce _something_. For the most part, Len had free reign.

It didn’t bother him that most of his coworkers didn’t even know his name. They only ever saw him when he wandered up to the other floors because his coffee maker was on the fritz. But Len tended to work on projects inspired by the world around him. That was how he created things people actually wanted, things Trickster Technologies could sell.

It made sense that Len would want to build something to stop meta humans when they were the biggest problem the city had to face. He started by building power dampeners for the police. They worked well for handcuffs and for cells at Iron Heights. But that assumed the police had already _caught_ the metas. Catching them, _stopping_ them, still proved next to impossible.

Which was when Len had built his cold gun.

“Just blast the damn wall already.”

“Structurally, the—”

“Oh come off it, Lenny, what other choice is there?”

There had to be another choice, any other choice. If Len was off in his calculations by even a fraction, he could bury them both. Neither of them would survive that, not with how hurt Barry was already.

Len couldn’t do it. It was too much of a risk.

“Someone will come,” he said, dropping his aim and returning to Barry's side.

“Are you kidding me?” Barry whined. “Even if your captain friend Rory is onto Reverb’s plan, no one knew we tracked him here. Because you don’t call things in unless you're ‘at least 95% certain',” he mocked, then groaned in distaste, though Len could tell it was exaggerated to cover how much pain he was in.

Reverb had brought most of the building down on them with his blasts, and Barry had thrown himself over Len to protect him, not that he’d ever admit he'd been worried. Now he had a metal bar through his chest for his troubles less than an inch from his heart. He couldn’t heal around it, but pulling it out…

Len needed his equipment. He needed to be back at STAR Labs or Barry could die. But no plan he went over in his head had enough probability of working.

“I just need to think,” Len said as he sat beside Barry.

“Lenny, I love that big, beautiful brain of yours, but make a damn decision already!” Barry was scared. He only ever snapped at Len when he was scared. “Coz if you’re not gonna get us out of here, at least give me that kiss you’ve been denying me all these months.” He also teased Len more, eyebrows bobbing suggestively. “Can’t a dying man get a little something on the side?”

“You are not dying.” Len shot him a petulant look, which was all Barry wanted really, to hear Len say that, before he laid back with a sigh, trying not to jostle the bar impaled through him. “And I’m not kissing you when you’re filthy.”

That perked Barry's attention, as if Len had admitted he might kiss him otherwise. His black and dark red suit was covered in sawdust and pieces of debris, the full mask pulled from his face to reveal his boyish grin that was barely tempered by his close-cropped beard.

“Aww, I’m not that dirty,” he said. “Dirty-minded, sure. Didn’t think this was how one of us would end up _penetrated_ in each other’s company.”

Len scoffed at the immaturity. He wondered sometimes if Barry would have held back with his flirting if he knew Len was a forty-year-old virgin or ramped it up.

“Is this a bad time to mention I’m claustrophobic?”

“I’m _thinking_ ,” Len bit out sharply. “We need a plan.”

“Can’t you improv for once?”

“I’m not hearing any ideas from _you_.”

Barry gestured at the metal bar like that made him exempt from helping.

Len huffed.

“Only you would consider me lazy while skewered.”

“Obviously you’re faking it for the puns.”

“You _like_ my puns,” Barry said. “And I did offer suggestions. Blast the wall or pucker up, handsome.”

Len tried ignoring Barry but that rarely helped.

“Fine, if no kiss, how about a blowjob before I die?”

“Urg, must you be so vulgar?”

No response. Barry always had a response.

“Barry?” Len turned to him in concern, noticing the way his eyelids fluttered and his head began to lull to the side. “Barry!”

 

XXXXX

 

Len hadn’t initially created the cold gun to counteract Barry’s powers. It was a multifaceted tool that could potentially stop many metas. Barry had just been Len’s inspiration. Or rather, The Flash had been, since he hadn't known his real name then.

The opposite of speed was cold after all, and taking down a thief would be an easier test run than going after mass murderers.

Barry said Len had just been bored playing science geek all alone. Len insisted he loved his city and wanted to protect it. The thrill was nice though, even from the first moment he used the gun in his testing room, large and full of padding and targets on tracks to practice various weapon outputs.

The night he met The Flash, the cold gun had blasted or frozen into powder every single obstacle in its path—before the meta sensor went off, signaling a flux of dark matter somewhere that proved someone was using their powers.

“Gideon, is it The Flash?” Len asked his AI as he darted from the testing room to the Cortex of STAR Labs where he kept his surveillance stations.

“That is correct, Mr. Snart. There has been a surge at the downtown Tiffany’s of extra-dimensional energy and time distortion.”

“The Speed Force.”

“Precisely.”

“Gideon, remind me again the probability of success with using the ice for…transport?” The idea made Len shiver, though that might be from using the gun for the past half hour. It helped that he was suiting up as he spoke, putting on a long navy-blue trench coat with a fur-lined hood, gloves to protect him from the backlash, and goggles to replace his glasses to minimize the reflection of light.

“There is a 72.5 percent chance of success within city limits,” Gideon said.

Not ideal. But good enough when Len was anxious to make progress.

He had never felt such a rush before as he hurried into the elevator and up to the roof. He didn’t do this sort of thing. _Heroics_. Going out when he could stay in, stay safe. But he did need a change and this was his chance to make a difference.

Knowing he couldn’t possibly catch The Flash if he wasted time taking a vehicle, he took the chance of beating Gideon’s odds and blasted the roof with ice, hopping on quickly to slide across it and keep the momentum going right over the edge of the roof and into the city with a continued stream.

Len had practiced in the testing room a few times, just across the room, and that had gone fine. Going upwards of 100 miles per hour in the middle of the night, suspended only by ice several feet above the ground where he might fall to his death was much more terrifying, but somehow, he made it all the way to Tiffany’s without incident and only stumbled a little when he hopped down upon arrival.  

He had Gideon patched through a communication system he’d built into his hood. “Gideon, is he still here? Did I miss him?” he asked—just as the back door to the jewelry store burst open and a sparking blur skidded to a stop.

“Who the hell are _you_?” the figure materialized into a man, covered head to toe in black, face included, holding an impressive sized bag over his shoulder overflowing with loot.

Len was certain he should have come up with some sort of clever reply, but he was too startled to do anything but fire.

A torrent of cold erupted from the gun, nearly sending the man careening into the door he’d just exited. Len had kept it on the blast setting only. He didn’t want to freeze the poor man.

While The Flash was on his back, Len asked into his comms, “Gideon, are the authorities en route?”

“Yes, Mr. Snart.”

“I’ll keep him occupied until they arrive.”

Laughter tittered up from the figure on the ground.

“Oh you are good,” the teasing voice said, before the alley turned upside down and suddenly Len was on his back, being held to the pavement with The Flash straddling his hips. “That actually hurt a little, but keeping me ‘occupied’ is harder than you think. Not a cop yourself, huh? Playing vigilante?”

Damn it, Len should have started at a higher setting. Clearly, he hadn’t incapacitated Flash enough, especially considering the man was removing him of his goggles and pushing the hood from his head.

“Not bad beneath the eyewear. You wanna try this position under better circumstances sometime, handsome, just say the word.”

What an insolent little—

The gun was still in Len’s hands, so he fired, and even though it shot off somewhere into the alley to hit the trash bin, it startled Flash enough that he turned to look, giving Len the chance to reach up and rip the mask from his head. When the man glanced back in shock and strangely pleased disbelief, Len finally saw his face.

His vision was blurry without the goggles or his glasses, but he still wasn’t prepared for how attractive The Flash was, even if his body had already seemed pleasing in the tight-fitting suit. He also wasn’t prepared for how young he looked.

“You’re just some kid.”

“I look young for my age,” Flash scowled.

“Which is what, nineteen?”

“Ooo that’s _cold_ ,” he hissed, his smile returning but sharp now, still holding Len to the ground. The sirens were getting closer. “Trust me, baby, I’m the perfect age for lasting stamina if you ever wanna find out.” He winked at Len, then zipped to his feet with a kick of lightning. “Better luck next time.”

He was gone in a blink, leaving Len to realize that being found by the police would not look good for him, especially when he hadn’t told Mick about his plans yet. He quickly made scarce, and once he’d caught his breath, he used the gun to make a faster escape back to STAR Labs.

Flash had called him Cold, but Len was left hot under the collar after the encounter, which he knew was terribly improper, but he didn’t often have anyone on top of him like that. He’d _never_ had anyone on top of him like that.

At least he’d seen Flash’s face and caught some footage of it, enough for Gideon to run facial recognition.

“Barry Allen?” Len said. “What’s his last known address?”

Maybe he was a fool, but he’d faced a meta human head-on, threatened him, and still ended up no worse for wear. Flash didn’t want to hurt anyone. He hadn't so far. He was just a thief. He might deserve jail time but he wasn’t a threat like some of the evil metas lurking the streets. If Len couldn’t take them all on—and he certainly couldn’t—then he needed help.

Who better than another meta?

Heading to the address Gideon gave him the next morning, Len was decked out once more in his gear, mostly to hide from civilians and to be properly protected from using his gun. He had to stun first and ask questions later, so after he knocked on Flash’s door, already with his goggles on in place of his glasses, he raised the cold gun and prepared to fire the second it opened.

“You know I can see you, right?” Flash’s voice called from inside. “I have a peephole and I’m a wanted criminal.”

Len sighed as he lowered the gun. He really needed to practice this more. “I just want to talk and I didn’t want you to run.”

“Tell ya what,” Flash said, the same teasing voice from last night, “promise not to shoot, and I’ll open the door.”

“Alright,” Len said eagerly, drawing down his goggles and putting the gun in its holster.

The door opened—then Len didn’t remember much because a whirlwind had hold of him, and the next thing he knew, he was on a sofa, with a lithe body straddling his hips. What was it with Flash and getting on top of him? Len felt his face flush _hot_.

“Wow, are you gullible. If it isn’t Mr. Cold,” Flash said with that insufferable grin, though Len had to squint to see it clearly without his goggles.

Flash seemed to notice and pulled Len’s glasses from where they were sticking out of his pocket to fit them back on his face with a perusing stare at how Len looked in them. They were even now, since Len could finally see him.

The facial hair was nice on him actually compared to his baby-faced mugshot. And the green eyes. And the dimple.

Len needed to focus. “I don’t want any trouble.”

“Yet you came looking for it. Or is this about my offer for getting you in this position again?” Clearly, he wasn’t taking Len seriously, and considering he’d thrown Len’s only weapon out of reach, it was no wonder.

“Meta humans are terrorizing the city,” Len tried anyway.

“I know. I’m one of them.”

“You’re a thief. Some metas are killing people.”

“Yeah,” at last, Flash showed some sign of distaste, “what’s that have to do with me?”

“Someone needs to stop it.”

“I believe they’re called _police_.”

“They can’t handle meta humans.”

“STAR Labs has been outfitting them well enough.”

Len was maybe a little too obvious with how he glanced away.

“ _You’re_ the guy outfitting the police? You work for STAR Labs? You’re just some science geek?”

“Someone has to do something!”

“So _do_ something.” Flash sat back on Len’s thighs. “If I’m so little a threat, why waste time with me?”

“Because I need help,” Len admitted. “Your powers are extraordinary.”

“Thanks for noticing, but I don’t do handouts.”

“ _Please_.”

“I look out for me.”

“Then…I’ll turn you in. I’ll give the police your name and address. Even if you run, you won’t have an easy time living your daily life.”

Flash gaped at him but also seemed strangely impressed. “You’re blackmailing me now? How heroic.”

“The desperate get creative.”

“Desperate why?”

“Because…”

Len hadn’t fully admitted it to himself. He had so few people in his life that meant anything to him—his childhood friend Mick and his sister Lisa. They were it. Mick was easier to protect. He was a captain with the CCPD. He didn’t hit the field as often as his officers, and he had all the equipment Len could provide him. But Lisa was a civilian. She was in danger just walking down the street.

She was finally training for the Olympics again, her dream. If anything ever happened to her…

“My sister lives in the city,” he said. “I don’t want to lose her because I was too weak to do something. Don’t you understand that even a little? Friends? Family you want to protect?”

The smugness fell from Flash’s face and he looked…stricken. _Human_.

“ _Please_ ,” Len tried again, while he had Flash disarmed. “I just want the innocent to have a chance against impossible odds. If there are any metas out there wanting to be heroes, I haven’t found any. You’re the only option I got.”

He was quiet for a long while, but when he spoke again, it was with a twist at his lips and a resettling of his body onto Len’s thighs.

“I’m no hero, _Cold_ , so…got any other perks to offer?”

““I’ll…cover your grocery bills?”

Flash laughed. “It’s cute you think I pay for my groceries.”

“Then I’ll…keep the police off your back! A friend of mine is captain at one of the precincts.”

“Not endearing yourself to me right now,” Flash sneered, “but you got me at a disadvantage and you’re not exactly wrong. I don’t want to move, and your resources might be enough to keep me safe while bringing in these psychos out doing more than property damage. So, if I say yes,” he leaned in closer to Len, almost nose to nose, “how about a kiss to seal the deal?”

“I b-beg your pardon? I don’t kiss men I hardly know.” He’d barely kissed any at all.

“But you do kiss men. Glad to know I guessed right. And you know more than most, handsome. You’re _here_.”

“My _name_ is Len. Len Snart.”

“Nice to meet you, Lenny. You can call my Barry.”

“And you can call me _Len_.”

“Oh I like you.” He chuckled again, trailing his fingers down Len’s cheeks before he sat back, which caused an unfair shiver to course through Len that he chose to blame on the current of lightning in the boy’s veins. “I’m gonna get that kiss out of you someday.”

Finally, Flash— _Barry_ —extricated himself from Len’s lap, and Len stood slowly after him, unable to tamp down his blush.

“Why on earth would you want to kiss me?” He glanced away, too used to being mocked to expect anything than further ridicule. He was terrible at flirting, at dating, at _everything_. He wasn’t the type of person anyone ever wanted. His lacking record of significant others attested to that.

But Barry blinked at Len like he’d said something scandalous. “You have no idea how hot you are, do you?”

Len was _not_ hot. He was just a science geek, like Barry had said, but since he didn’t know how to respond, he simply said, “I thought you called me _Cold_.”

Barry snickered. “We can do better than the Mister part, but Cold it is. When I’m not calling you Lenny.”

It was the best and worst decision Len ever made.

 

XXXXX

 

Barry was a borderline conman before getting hit by lightning. Most people would have ended up dead, but the combination of chemicals he’d been around at the time had ignited his dormant meta gene, and The Flash was born.

Other metas were being triggered different ways, some simply realizing they had powers when they hit puberty. The growing number was making the CCPD’s job harder and harder, but with Barry, Len had a champion to help the cause.

Or he would have if Barry wasn’t the complete opposite of lawful.

Len even made him a real suit, one with more flare and style and a lightning bolt insignia to give the city hope in its new hero. The police—and the media, for that matter—caught on quickly that The Flash had changed sides, since his thefts turned into rescues. What Len tried to keep anyone for realizing, however, was that sometimes they were still thefts.

“Put that down! We are not stealing from the same people we just helped prevent a theft from in the first place.”

“They won’t notice.”

“ _Barry_.”

“No part of our deal specified I don’t get to have fun.”

Sometimes, Len got Barry to listen to him, though he wondered how often Barry returned later at high-speeds to complete his thefts. Whenever Barry outright refused to behave, Len would shift into what Barry called his ‘Mom mode’ with raised voice and more confidence than usual, even if Barry did have superpowers and could lay Len out whenever he wanted. 

He never did though, never would. Barry was a good man deep down—sometimes very deep down.

“You’re serious about this?” Mick pulled Len aside after he and Barry hadn’t been able to dash away fast enough before the police arrived at a scene one night. Len was lucky Mick trusted him.

“Meta humans are ransacking our city, Mick. At least all Flash ever did was steal.”

“And you think you can control this guy?”

“He’s well on his way to being reformed.”

“Really? So this is what, a minor slip?” Mick turned a tablet toward Len showing live CCTV footage of Flash zipping loot into an alleyway around the corner, while Len, Mick, and the rest of the police were all _right there_ , booking the metas who were supposed to be the bad guys tonight.

_Damn it, Barry._

“Just tell me, Len, are you thinking with your head, your heart, or your dick?”

“I resent that accusation.”

“It was a question not an accusation, but there’s my answer. All three, like always,” Mick said, putting the tablet away as Flash zipped back into view, saluting officers and thanking them for their service as if he hadn’t just been stealing literally behind their backs. “He know you’re a virgin?”

“That is hardly anyone’s business!” Len hissed.

“I don’t wanna see you get your heart broken again is all.”

“I appreciate that, but I have no interest in Flash romantically.”

Mick scanned him like he could see right through the lie. “Fine. But if you wanna play hero like this every might, promise you’ll call me if you ever get in too deep.”

Usually, Len did just that, when they had a lead on something that couldn’t be handled by Len and Barry alone. But the last thing Len wanted was to be a burden to anyone, especially to his friend, which was why he usually did things on his own. Pulling Barry in to help him had just been a logical next step.

Lisa met Barry shortly afterward when Len nearly forgot about a local figure skating performance she had during her training schedule. There was no way he would have made it on time if Barry hadn’t offered to run him there.

Barry was his usual charming self once they arrived, of course, and Lisa instantly loved him, which should have annoyed Len or worried him, but he felt oddly relieved by her approval.

“Keep a close eye on my big brother, okay, Barry?”

“I always do.”

Len didn’t add that Barry’s eyes were usually on his _ass_.

“Would you like me to list off all the things I regularly objectify about you, Lenny, because I will,” Barry said when they returned to the Labs that night.   

“Barry…”

“Your self-esteem honestly offends me on your behalf. Especially with those eyes, that jawline, the way your glasses fall to the end of your nose, that ass in a tight pair of slacks, your legs—”

“ _Stop_.”

“Not until you believe me.”

Len couldn’t look at Barry while a smile was creeping onto his face. It would only encourage the behavior. But he couldn’t deny enjoying being _seen_ for once when usually he tried so hard to hide.

Barry might have seduced him a dozen times over if he wasn’t just as often a menace.

“I cannot believe you!” Len balked while treating Barry’s cuts after a successful thwarting of a kidnapping, where Barry had saved the would-be victim and gotten meta dampeners onto the kidnapper, only for Len to discover that Barry had stolen the victim’s gold necklace and had it around his neck beneath the suit. “She was nearly in tears!”

“Which was how I knew she wouldn’t miss it.”

“You are _despicable_!”

“I saved her, didn’t I? How else am I supposed to get paid?” Barry made a point of standing from the med bed to shimmy out of the suit, dragging it down his legs right there in front of Len to reveal tight, low-cut boxer briefs that showed off the groves of his hip bones.

Len used his anger to push past how easy it would have been to stare—at the groves, at Barry’s legs…

“You can treat your own cuts tonight,” Len growled. “And don’t think I won’t turn you into the police if you keep skirting the law like this.”

Pushing away from the bed and looking at his shoulder with a shrug as if the gashes deserved no further attention, Barry sauntered away in his undressed state, ignoring Len entirely. He was lucky they had that floor all to themselves, flaunting himself like that as he crossed to where he kept his clothes.

“ _Barry_ ,” Len called after him, but Barry continued to ignore him. “You ungrateful, spoiled, over-confident little—”

“Fuck you too, Lenny,” Barry spun around, shoving his middle finger into the air.

Len gaped at him, at the brazen and similarly sexy picture he painted, his sweater half pulled up in the middle of putting it on to show off his taut, muscled stomach, still otherwise clad in only his underwear. Len must have looked ridiculous in his offence of the gesture, because Barry outright laughed.

“Your  _face_!”

It was so  _childish_. Len could only sputter, pushing at his glasses to keep them from falling off when he lowered his head and shook it, completely appalled at Barry’s behavior.

Barry only laughed harder.

“I can think of just where you can stick that finger, you little brat,” Len growled before he could censor himself.

Barry’s mouth dropped open in shock but he was still smiling, like he was proud of Len for falling to his level. Once he’d collected himself, he drew his hand slowly down his chest, eyeing Len deviously as he began to advance forward.

Unable to form words of explanation, Len stumbled away from him but wasn’t fast enough before Barry had him pinned against the nearby desk, close enough in his space to share breath. Usually, Len tried to avoid getting this close to Barry; he knew he’d give away how much he desired him even when the boy drove him crazy. Especially then. 

“I can think of a few places to _stick it_ ,” Barry purred. “Wanna explore those options together?”

“A-A-Absolutely not! We have a…a-a professional—”

“Please, like you aren’t dying to fuck me. Or have me fuck you. I’m up for either.”

He was so infuriatingly casual about it, Len wanted to scream, but instead he stammered, “It would b-be inappropriate! We can’t. We _shouldn’t_. And I‘m _not_ interested.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Barry relented with a disappointed sigh. “Forget I offered then.”

Len couldn’t explain why the moment Barry pulled away, he wished he’d hovered longer, pushed a little further, but he couldn’t _admit_ that. He couldn’t tell Barry that he thought about him amorously almost every night. It would make things far too complicated between them, and honestly, Len had no idea how to pursue something like that.

Barry’s moral shortcomings aside, what if they were terrible together? What if it ruined everything? What if Barry got bored with him after he finally got that kiss and never came back? It was easier to pretend to not want something than to risk the loss of it someday. He’d probably be rubbish at sex anyway, and Barry would laugh in his face.  

So he said nothing while Barry finished changing and left.

The encounter didn’t stop Barry from flirting later or mentioning that he fully expected to get that kiss out of Len someday, but something had shifted between them, and Len couldn’t figure out how to fix it.

The night of their fight with Reverb that ended with them trapped and Barry impaled, Len finally got a hint about why Barry was alone despite his posturing.

“Put your skills to use, huh, and figure out how to get me drunk.” Barry was in a mood when he arrived at STAR Labs, a strange mood like Len had never seen before.

“Mr. Allen, given your metabolism—”

“I wasn’t asking _you_ , Gideon.” Barry wasn’t a fan of the AI. He said he only liked talking to people he could touch.

“I hardly think my time is best served figuring out how to turn a drunken speedster loose on the city,” Len said.

He’d been sitting at the main terminal in the Cortex, cataloguing some of their newest findings into the meta human database, when Barry flashed in, the only warning a prickle of Len’s skin that he’d grown used to before he had a nimble and mischievous companion poised on the end of his desk.

Barry was like Puck or Loki. In fact, Len wasn’t entirely convinced that Barry wasn’t some sort of god of mischief in disguise.

Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, Len tried not to stare when he noticed out of the corner of his eyes that Barry’s hair was messier than usual and his eyes looked a little red-rimmed as if…

Had he been crying?

“Barry, are you—”

“I’m bored, so either find the time for a little science experiment or you might have to deal with me falling to my old ways tonight and robbing a jewelry store for kicks.”

“At what point did you ever _rise up_ from your old ways exactly?” Len said on reflex, then pushed back from the desk to look at Barry. He had definitely been crying. “Did something happen?”

“Why?” Barry crossed his arms and frowned as he glanced away.

“You weren’t scheduled to patrol tonight.”

“Like I said, I’m bored.”

“How many times must I explain that if you ever need my help, all you have to do—”

“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” Barry snapped, tightening his arms across his middle. It wasn’t that Len had never seen Barry upset before, but he usually shook it off, changed the subject, dove into his flirtations, something. Now, he didn’t seem to be able to do any of that.

“What is it about tonight?”

Barry didn’t share. It wasn’t in his nature to open up. Len knew facts about him, his record, where and when he’d been born, his lack of friends and family, but he didn’t know why. He’d asked Barry why he became a thief, why he lived alone, what had happened to his loved ones, but all those records were lost, maybe _taken_ , and Barry deflected every question. Eventually, Len had stopped pushing.

This time, he felt like he needed to push harder.

“Barry,” he tried again, “what is it about tonight?”

The meta human alert went off before Barry could open his mouth.

It was Reverb at an old section of Iron Heights that had been closed and cordoned off. Underground tunnels connected it to the regular prison, something only old blueprints revealed. It was the perfect starting point for a prison break. The city would hardly stand a chance if there was a _league_ of supervillains working in tandem.

But Len hadn’t been sure he was right when the call came through. The readings that the meta alert picked up on might have been from someone or something else, it wasn’t conclusive. The only pieces of the puzzle they’d known before they went there were that someone had recently stolen those old Iron Heights’ blueprints and there was chatter on the streets about Reverb recruiting. Len hadn’t wanted to call Mick in until they were certain the readings were more than just feedback from a cosmic distortion.

What a foolish, thoughtless mistake that had been, because Reverb had been waiting for them, and his vibe blasts shorted out both their comms before Len could call for help.

Now, it was all his fault that Barry wasn’t waking up.

 

XXXXX

 

“Please, Barry, you’re stronger than this,” Len said, holding his face as he crouched close beside him, trying to get Barry to open his eyes.

Maybe he’d lost more blood than what Len could see. Maybe the inability to heal while still being impaled was taking its toll. Maybe the metal bar _had_ nicked his heart.

“ _Please_. I can’t carry you on my own. I need your help. I’ll blast the wall. I’ll take the risk. Just _wake up_.”

He didn’t dare shake Barry too harshly, but no matter how much he patted Barry’s soft, scruff-covered cheeks, he wouldn’t stir.

“I’ll give you that kiss!” Len tried in desperation, dropping his forehead to touch Barry’s, closer than he’d ever allowed himself to get. “I’ve wanted to… I’ve wanted to give in since the first day we met, but I was afraid. What if you don’t mean it? What if you don’t really want me? What if you don’t like it once you have me? My awful self-esteem getting in the way again, right? But it isn’t because I don’t want you, Barry, please…I’ll give you that kiss, just wake up.”

Barry was so still now. What could Len do? What was he supposed to do? The only thing he could think of was to follow through on his promise.

Stroking Barry’s face, Len leaned down and whispered as though they were merely playing at _Sleeping Beauty_ , “Please…wake up,” and pressed his lips to Barry’s.

Barry responded immediately, head turning into the kiss, lips parting, tongue seeking Len’s and deepening the connection with enthusiasm that should not have been possible from someone passed out.

Because he never _had been_.

“See, Lenny,” Barry said, licking his lips after Len jerked away from him, “just as good as I always knew it would be.”

“You _were_ faking it?!” Len slapped him in the shoulder.

“Ow! Only the passing out part. I’m still impaled.”

“What is wrong with you?!” Len slapped him harder.

“Come on, Lenny, I only—“

“ _Not_ another word,” Len warned him, then abruptly stood, snatched his gun from the ground, walked to the wall, checked his calculations one more time to triangulate the right spot to aim for, and blasted it apart with his ice.

Nothing collapsed. They were free.

“Len—”

“I don’t care how much pain you’re in,” Len growled at Barry as he propped the gun on his shoulder and turned on him with a glare, “get up and get us back to the Labs _now_.”

The one consolation was that Barry looked honestly cowed as he struggled to his feet—and maybe a little turned on.

The kiss really had been amazing, but Len wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of telling him that.

The bad news was that Reverb had gone ahead through the tunnels to enact his prison break. The good news was that he hadn’t expected the tunnels to be surveillanced and lined with meta dampeners that his powers hadn’t been able to vibe through earlier to know what was waiting for him.

They’d caught him, and instead of a prison break, Reverb was finding himself in a nice cozy cell of his own.

Back at the Labs, it was easier to pull the metal bar from Barry’s chest, taking every precaution to ensure he didn’t bleed out before his healing factor kicked in. The procedure went off without a hitch, and before long, Len was wrapping Barry’s chest in bandages that would likely be removed in the morning to already smooth skin.

He sat there in just his underwear, unfairly toned and attractive and smugly aware of it, while Len tended to him. “Don’t be like that, Lenny. I was just trying to give you a push to make a decision and get us out of there. Come on, how about we try that kiss again?”

“You’re still filthy,” Len reminded him, keeping his eyes on the bandages.

“Ever and always,” Barry said, but when Len didn’t respond, he grasped his hands and held them to his chest.

“Barry…” Len tried to tug out of his grip to no avail. “That stunt aside, I was worried about you, do you understand? You can’t—”

“I know. I’m sorry. But I knew it was the only way to get through to that big beautiful brain of yours.”

It wasn’t the words that brought Len’s eyes up to Barry’s but the tone, gentle and pleading, almost desperate in its honesty. For all his teasing and bravado, there was no mask on Barry’s face now, and that made it easier for Len to lean down when Barry started to lean up.

Their lips touched like before but it was gentler this time, no reason to rush, no impending doom, no fear of being found out a _liar_. It was soft in its motion until Len parted his lips for their tongues to tangle again, slow, then deeper and deeper until his breath caught and he had to pull away. 

“I am never going to get bored of you,” Barry said, a whisper against his lips. “I am never going to suddenly decide I don’t like you. The reason I don’t act serious most of the time is because it’s easier to be a _shit_ and push your buttons than to get too real. Real would be admitting that knowing me is a liability. At least it was for my family.”

“Your family?” Len pulled back with a start.

“Tonight’s the anniversary of the night they died.” Barry glanced at Len’s hands that he still held in his grasp. “Because I snuck out of the house. Just fourteen, wanting a little thrill, a little fun, and I left the door unlocked behind me. Armed robbery isn’t pretty. Why do you think I never use a weapon?”

“Oh, Barry.” A deep chill settled in Len’s stomach at the admission. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not as sorry as I was. Better to not let anyone get too close, right?” He grinned, but it was a false smile in their shared hang-ups. “What a pair we are, huh?”

Len felt so foolish. He was nearly twice Barry’s age. He should be better at this, but they’d still ended up on the same page, in the same headspace, with the same stumbling blocks, just with different ways of portraying them.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Len said, “usually, I’m the one putting _you_ in danger. Like tonight. If anything had happened to you…”

“Let’s not play that game.” Barry reached up to cup Len’s cheek, and for once, Len didn’t try to shake him away. “We’re both screw-ups sometimes. Tonight we survived, and hey, I finally got my kiss.” He drew Len down again, and Len had no will or desire to fight him.  

Barry’s lips were wonderful meeting his, even if he was a little dusty from having a building fall down around him while shielding Len from the debris.

“Just remember, we could have been doing this the entire time.”

“Shut up, Barry.”

Len pushed the kiss deeper, dropping the remaining bandages to the floor and wrapping his arms around Barry’s neck to pull him closer. Barry’s hands drifted to his waist and slid up the back of his shirt.

Then down the back of his slacks.

“ _Barry_.” Len reprimanded with a gasp.

Barry gasped too, though it was more like a hiss, because Len had squeezed him to his chest, and Barry’s chest had recently had a metal bar through it. Growling in frustration, Barry had to release Len.

“When I’m better, I am going to show you where I’d like to put that finger.”

“You are disgusting,” Len cringed, mostly to cover his blush and shiver of anticipation.  

“Maybe, but you love me anyway.”

Len couldn’t deny that. He bent to retrieve the supplies he’d dropped and finished securing Barry’s bandages. “I am sorry about your family, Barry, but I’m glad you finally told me.”

A shrug was Barry’s way of agreeing without having to say more. “Still wouldn’t mind getting drunk on occasion.”

“I suppose I could work on that as a side project. And when you’re better, which will likely be _tomorrow_ , maybe I’ll let you convince me of the appeal of all those parts of mine you so enjoy objectifying.”

“ _Baby_ ,” Barry’s head snapped up as Len walked away, “now that is an offer that isn’t cold at all.”

Len smirked to himself. This might still be a terrible mistake, but if thinking with his head, his heart, and his _dick_ all at once was how he’d ended up here, he wasn’t going to fight it.

He could worry about telling Barry he was a virgin later.

 

 

THE END...or CONTINUE?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much! Let me know if you'd like me to continue this 'verse!


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